


Overt Orientation

by rospeaks



Series: Gavin/900 Sentinel fics [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Canon-Typical Violence, Gun Violence, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Secrets, Sentinel/Guide, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 06:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rospeaks/pseuds/rospeaks
Summary: The information he'd been given on Gavin Reed had indicated a hot headed and sometimes reckless detective. He was a lone wolf in the department, had been for the better part of ten years, and yet, he had as good a record as any Sentinel-Guide pairing. He had to work very hard, RK900 had concluded, considering that Gavin was a Neutral.Regardless, RK900 was a Level 5 rated Guide Android, the highest level possible. He was designed to handle the strongest and most feral Sentinels in the world, and if he could do that, he could handle a Neutral without any effort at all.





	Overt Orientation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Funkspiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funkspiel/gifts).



> _Face up, untouched_  
>  Craving for some healing  
> Take off better than the rest  
> Game's up, it's too much  
> Oh you're the king of healing  
> Take off, I'm staring at the ground  
> Tell me it gets easier, tell me it gets easier -- Easier, by Mansionair
> 
> Overt orienting - the act of selectively attending to an item or location by looking at it

There were many things that RK900 had known about Gavin before arriving at the DPD. Elijah himself had practically downloaded the information into the RK900's memory just before his assignment had been made. Elijah had given him more information than just the usual statistics offered by a background check, even a deep one. 

"He will be difficult," Elijah had said. "He won't cooperate, and he'll try to get away from you at every turn. I don't want you to let that happen, understand?"

RK900 had thought he had understood. The information he'd been given on Gavin Reed had indicated a hot headed and sometimes reckless detective. He was a lone wolf in the department, had been for the better part of ten years, and yet, he had as good a record as any Sentinel-Guide pairing. He had to work very hard, RK900 had concluded, considering that Gavin was a Neutral. Regardless, RK900 was a Level 5 rated Guide Android, the highest level possible. He was designed to handle the strongest and most feral Sentinels in the world, and if he could do that, he could handle a Neutral without any effort at all.

It had taken very little time for RK900 to realize how wrong he was.

For one thing, Gavin was about three times as hot headed and reckless as the reports had led him to believe. He was loud. He yelled. He ground his teeth. He spoke like he was more fluent in curses and foul language than he was in politeness. He made no secret of not needing a Guide around, not even if he encountered a feral Sentinel, and frequently and remorselessly, left RK900 behind when it came time to pursue a case. 

By the time two weeks of this had passed, RK900 was actually beginning to show signs of frustration, but he persevered. 

He tracked Gavin's activity on his computer, anticipating when the detective would leave his desk by monitoring when he logged out of the system. He moved quickly to follow whenever Gavin made a move toward the entrance. He urged Gavin to get regular sleep and meals to assuage what he could whatever stress motivated him to grind his teeth all the time. He stopped short of actually following Gavin home to see if his instructions were being followed, but he thought he might yet, if it would help. 

It... did not always work. Gavin eventually surrendered to making sure RK900 was with him when he was investigating, but that had more to do with Fowler than anything RK900 had done. Gavin was otherwise still a very loud, very rude, very angry Neutral.

And when RK900 finally got to see him work... It was very strange. 

The case they were working on had to do with a rash of android deaths -- a not uncommon problem since the wake of the revolution. The number of deaths so far was in the double digits, but five of them had similar methods. The department suspected a serial killer, and RK900 had imagined Gavin acting dismissive toward investigation. Instead, RK900 was so amazed to watch Gavin work professionally and efficiently -- if accompanied by rather crude commentary under his breath -- that he almost forgot to begin analyzing the crime scene himself.

The android victim was in an alley. A PL600 in seemingly excellent condition prior to the events that occurred here. It was clear that the cause of death had been blunt force trauma to the pump regulator. Their limbs were torn from the joint, but RK900 noted that there were marks on the forearms and legs that matched that of a hand. Someone very strong had dismembered the android by tearing them apart, and judging by the amount of thirium sprayed across the ground, it had happened prior to the pump regulator being incapacitated. Then, perhaps in a moment of remorse, the killer had gathered the limbs and brought them back to the torso, placing them side by side so that the android almost appear to be resting, were it not for the exposed wiring and crushed torso.

"Another android?" RK900 suggested.

"Or a feral Sentinel," Gavin agreed, though RK900 had not offered his analysis of the crime scene up yet. 

He was curious to see what conclusions that Gavin could come up with on his own, especially since he was so arrogant about not needing a partner. If the detective's hypothesis could be refuted, then RK900 would provide the evidence against it. Until then, he was happy to watch.

Detective Reed sniffed, scrubbing at his face, and grimaced. "Place smells like a shithole," he grunted, peering around.

The alley itself was not much to look at beyond the excessive amount of thirium. The mouth had been cordoned off by police, and a small swarm of spectators were gathered beyond the yellow tape. Gavin turned away from all of that, looking toward the dead end of the alley with his head cocked slightly. The dumpsters were open, overflowing. The brick of the neighboring buildings soared high above them, with iron staircases climbing up their sides like ivy. 

Gavin hummed thoughtfully. "Hey, tin can," he muttered over his shoulder. "Don't worry about keeping up, yeah?"

RK900 raised an incredulous brow at Gavin's back.

Ignoring him, Gavin scuffed his boots as he strode deeper into the alley. Investigating the dumpsters, it looked like. RK900's analytical program followed him, identifying items as he went -- trash, trash, more trash -- and then suddenly, a bag behind the second dumpster unfolded, slid away, as a thick figure stumbled to their feet and leapt toward the nearest fire escape with a snarl. 

A Sentinel, then. RK900 did not see android-like movements as they scrambled up the stairs to the rooftops. It wasn't clean, programmed movement or even the glitchy jerky movement of a damaged android. No, the figure was human -- male, based on the size of his hands, dimensions matching the imprints on the PL600 -- and he was putting a great deal of distance between himself and the ground at the rate he was running. 

RK900 sent a message to the other android Guides nearby to finish securing the scene. There was no way that Gavin, a Neutral, would be able to catch up, but--

Gavin barked out a laugh, launching up from the gravel to the fire escape. He didn't look very strong, but he was fast. His feet and hands moved him up the fire escape without mistakes, without effort. Compared to the Sentinel's frantic flight, Gavin was as slippery as an eel. Before RK900 was halfway up the fire escape himself, Gavin was on the roof. By the time RK900 was on the roof, Gavin and the Sentinel had disappeared over the edge of a second one.

It took some searching and a lot of running, but RK900 caught up at last, confused at how fast his pump had to work for him to keep up. He saw Gavin working to pin the Sentinel down, but Gavin wasn't a Guide. He had to work with what he had, which was -- as far as RK900 could tell -- just the standard issue baton. Guns were worthless against a feral Sentinel, but the baton at least could send a shock through the Sentinel's nervous system, overwhelm all those senses until they were numb enough to reset, bring him back down to a normal level. They were only rated to Level 2, however, which was fine for the majority of Sentinels. Even so, Gavin had managed to get the Sentinel down to one knee, but lost it as soon as RK900 was on the scene.

Gavin's lip curled at him when he approached, but when RK900 stretched out his hand and seized the Sentinel by the back of the neck, Gavin recoiled, barely staying on his feet. The Sentinel went limp under RK900's grip as soon as his Guide protocols had been activated. The Sentinel panted softly, and his eyes closed in something like relief. But RK900's gaze was on Gavin, who paced at the edge of the sidewalk, waving away onlookers as he called in their location to dispatch.

The detective was breathing hard -- harder than the Sentinel was -- but not, RK900 thought, as hard as a Neutral should be.

RK900 narrowed his eyes. "What's your rating?" he asks.

Gavin jerked around. "What?"

"Your Sentinel rating," RK900 clarified.

Gavin scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You musta hit something while chasing me cause it sounds like your systems need recalibrating."

RK900 had, in fact, hit something, but his body was built like a tank. He did not need recalibrating. 

Detective Reed's pulse and respiration were still elevated. His pupils dilated wide whenever he glanced back at the android. His nostrils were flaring. 

And yet, Gavin took a few deep breaths, and within a few seconds, it all seemed to disappear. "What are you looking at, tin can?"

"A Sentinel," RK900 answered flatly. "You aren't registered as one."

"Because I'm not one, idiot," Gavin spat. "What, you think that a human has to be a Sentinel in order to catch one? They aren't that fucking special."

RK900 wanted to argue, but at that point, a squad car was rolling up to take custody of the Sentinel. He allowed it, watching carefully as Gavin brushed off an EMT's assistance and then Officer Chen's casual ribbing. If Gavin really was a Sentinel, then RK900 could no longer see the evidence of it. Reluctantly, he acknowledged that he would need to gather more evidence before he could prove that Gavin was lying.

And just in case, he would get recalibrated at Cyberlife this evening as well.

**

The next day, RK900 created a new file on his partner. He recorded anything that might indicate something near Sentinel-grade activity. It was painfully thin on facts, and after a few week's effort turned up barely anything, RK900 began recording everything, such as:

Gavin only drank water. He ate his meals plain, with few spices, and they were always home cooked, though not particularly well. He didn't smoke like some of the other cops. He kept his desk and terminal scrupulously clean. He cursed like a sailor, still, but he did so less around kids. And kids _loved_ him, as evidenced by the four-year-old girl that was clinging to Gavin's shirt while an EMT checked her over on the edge of a crime scene.

She had been wailing and screaming about a half hour ago when Connor had pulled her out of the trunk of a car, where a kidnapper had stashed her before trying to make a run for it. Normally people responded well to Connor because of his sweet demeanor, but this one had kicked and cried the whole way until Gavin had stormed up with a scowl, scooped her up under one arm, and dumped her on the stoop of the ambulance with a shock blanket thrown over her head. She'd then dissolved into hiccups and blotchy tears when the EMT came at her with a stethoscope, gazing up at Gavin like he was going to save her from medical treatment as well. 

"What," Gavin had grumped. "It doesn't hurt. See?" He patted roughly on the stethoscope pad, making the EMT wince. "You're fine now, okay? So let the nice man make sure, yeah?"

Gavin had clearly meant to give the girl a pat on the head and then bail, but she'd latched onto his shirt before he could go more than a step, face scrunching up like she would burst into a fresh wave of tears if she lost sight of him. RK900 had thought Gavin might wiggle free anyway, but instead, Gavin had sighed, long suffering, as he sat down next to the child instead. 

RK900 took it upon himself to contact the girl's parents, though it would take over an hour for them to drive in. In the meantime, Gavin had little choice but to be her temporary guardian. The other officers teased him quietly when the girl climbed into his lap and promptly fell asleep, face first into his chest with a small puddle of drool starting to form.

 _Good with kids_ , was how RK900 elaborated this in his file on Gavin Reed. 

He took his coworkers' ribbing with grace as he tipped his chair back onto its hind legs, hooking his toes under the drawers of his desk for balance. He folded his big hands over the span of her back, wiggled his nose under the sagging weight of his sunglasses, and eyed RK900 in return like he wasn't behaving completely unlike what the android had come to expect. 

A small little smirk curved Gavin's mouth. "Hey," he whispered, beckoning RK900 over with a jerk of his head. 

RK900 approached, curiosity getting the better of him. "Did you need something, Detective Reed?" 

"Yeah," Gavin said. He knuckled his sunglasses higher onto the bridge of his nose and leaned his head back against the edge of his seat. "Get me a coffee, wouldya. Cream, no sugar."

An odd request, to be sure, as RK900 had yet to see Gavin drink coffee at all. The detective got cups of it all the time, of course, but at the end of the day, it always ended up being poured down the sink, untouched. 

RK900 brought Gavin a bottle of water instead.

** 

Gavin was prone to headaches, but resolutely insisted that medication didn't help ease it. Now that he had been partnered with Gavin for a couple months, RK900 could see when the pain started to build up past Gavin's tolerance. It started with a tightness around his eyes, then a furrow between his brows. Gavin would start to rest his eyes more frequently and rotate his neck like he was working out tension. He rubbed absently at his shoulders, squeezing up around his nape, even as a tight scowl twisted his mouth downward. Yet even when these headaches lasted more than a few hours, Gavin didn't take medication for it.

RK900 watched pensively as Gavin rested on his hands, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. The android could not detect any noise level in the department that was any higher than normal, but the light streaming in through the windows was that of a bright, summery day. RK900 could not be sure if that was sufficient cause for Gavin's headache today, but he made note of it anyway. The only pattern that had emerged was that these headaches occurred every few days. It could be the cumulative efforts of several sense triggers, but RK900 had yet to find any single cause. 

Eventually, RK900 rose, approached, and quietly laid his hand over the back of Gavin's neck. Immediately, Gavin jerked up and away, then winced when his headache worsened. 

"Relax, I'm not using my Guide protocols" RK900 said. "You are not a Sentinel after all. There would be no need." 

Gavin glared suspiciously for a while longer, regardless. "I'm fine," he said.

That made both of them liars, RK900 supposed.

"Let me help," he said. "You're in no condition to work like this."

Gavin relented gradually, finally returning to his previous hunched position. He tensed up when RK900's hands rested on him again, but RK900 eased him into being touched like this, approaching Gavin's neck slowly with both hands stroking and squeezing over his shoulders before sliding closer.

Perhaps it was just a tension headache, RK900 considered. There were knots upon knots in the muscles under his hands, so stiff and stubborn that they could only have been built up over time, and RK900 worked some of them out as carefully as he could, aware that such chronic conditions could only be treated over time. He stroked his hands over Gavin's shoulders to encourage more blood flow, wishing that he had greater access to skin -- or better yet, that it would not be inappropriate to simply _lick_ Gavin. His hands could only register so much information, and his tongue could only taste the pheromones in the air, without knowing which person was the source. For now, it would have to be enough that he could measure the exact width of Gavin's spine by the press of his thumbs. 

Sentinels, as a rule, had thicker spinal cords that required greater protection. Millions more nerves than the average Neutral to supply muscles that needed to respond to reflexes or to whatever it was that a Sentinel might see or hear. As a result, the bones themselves were slightly thicker by at least a few millimeters. This was especially true if the Sentinel had all five senses elevated, as the rarest -- touch -- was the most neurally demanding. Even if Gavin was only a Level 1 Sentinel, RK900 could expect the detective's spine to measure on the upper end of normal for Neutrals. Twenty-six, twenty-seven millimeters, perhaps...

RK900 pressed his thumbs in until he could feel the articular processes of the largest cervical bone beneath them, then slid inward until he was sure that he was measuring the bone's central body.

_Thirty-four millimeters._

Surprise made RK900 stall long enough for Gavin to notice. Gavin lifted his head with a muffled noise. RK900 was quick to shove his head back down.

Thirty-four millimeters in a man of Gavin's stature would make him a statistical outlier for any Neutral. Not _impossible_ , RK900 conceded as he pulled up several different scientific studies, but certainly highly _improbable._ Even for a Sentinel, however, that measurement would imply an increased likelihood for Gavin to be a Level 3 or 4 Sentinel. Even a Level 5 was possible. 

Under his hands, Gavin let out a quiet groan.

RK900 dug his fingers upward, notching them in the muscle just under Gavin's skull. "Better?" he asked.

Gavin could only let out a deep sigh.

The temptation was inevitable. It was so easy to activate his Guide subroutine. Nothing tactical. Just a little... a gentle _nudge_. A low hum in his circuits that slid from his fingers to the cervical spinal nerves stretching out from Gavin's spine. It took hardly any effort at all to measure how much activity they were experiencing and match it with his own, countering it.

Gavin's shoulders and back shivered a little, trembling briefly before going slack when RK900 stopped providing input. Gavin himself was so relaxed suddenly that RK900 wondered if he might have fallen asleep, but he sat up when RK900 withdrew his hands, eyes closed like he was basking in the feeling of relief.

"Perhaps you should take the rest of the day off, Detective Reed," RK900 suggested mildly. 

Gavin hummed, but shook his head. "M'good." He tilted his head back to look up at RK900. His pupils were blown wide, and dark dark dark. "You good?"

"I am," RK900 assured him.

Fascinated, RK900 watched as Gavin's eyes slowly returned to normal. Gavin rolled his shoulders and tilted his head from side to side, as if testing the limits of his unwound muscles.

"Your headache is gone?"

"Yeah," Gavin said. He sounded surprised. "Thanks. You're... you were good at that. I guess."

"You're welcome," RK900 said, almost as surprised as Gavin that this conversation was taking place. He wondered if maybe Gavin shouldn't go home anyway. Perhaps he was ill. He hesitated to suggest it again, but did so anyway.

Gavin smiled at his concern. Actually smiled. It made him look younger. 

"Nah," he said. "With that headache gone, I think I got a clear enough mind to make some progress. It'd be a shame to waste your hard work, don't you think?"

RK900 frowned a little. "Far be it from me to keep you from doing your work." He meant to say it dryly. It came out sounding helpless. 

He wasn't sure what to do with this side of Gavin, especially when he seemed so... soft.

Gavin laughed -- a breathy sort of chuckle -- and scratched at his cheek in a manner that was rather bashful. "You should know better than to try and stop me by now. Better to just roll with it."

"Yes," RK900 agreed. "I will just... roll with it."

With everything, RK900 thought. 

**

RK900 considered the idea that Gavin simply did not know he was a Sentinel. 

There was evidence that some humans never came online, despite all evidence for the potential of it. Perhaps Gavin was online, but it had simply happened so slowly that he never noticed. Some Sentinels went their whole lives without encountering a scenario that demanded the use of their senses, and maybe Gavin had a high tolerance for them in the first place.

There was a scream, the hard bang of a gunshot, a more distant shout, and then silence.

RK900 looked down at Gavin, who had sniped a hostage-taker in the next building with only a pistol. 

Gavin sat up from the roof's edge with a sharp little grin. "Nice," he complimented himself, and then holstered his gun before calling it in to the police on the ground.

With a roll of his eyes, RK900 dismissed this hypothesis.

Gavin Reed might occasionally be stupid and reckless and terrible, but he wasn't an _idiot_.

**

He considered the possibility that perhaps everyone must be aware that Gavin was a Sentinel, but had decided to keep it a secret from RK900 for some reason. It could easily have been at Gavin's request, considering his vehemence against being paired with a Guide. It was a faulty hypothesis at best -- not least of which because there were no records of Gavin Reed being anything other than what he stated. 

On a whim, RK900 approached Connor. His predecessor had worked in the DPD for longer than him, so he must have a clear idea of Gavin's capabilities, even if they didn't particularly care for each other. He decided to broach the subject carefully.

He followed Connor out during one of his breaks, and they stood side by side on the DPD's front sidewalk for a long moment before RK900 asked, "If I asked you a question, would you lie to me?"

Connor tilted his head to the side curiously. "Do you _want_ me to lie to you?"

"I want to know about Gavin Reed," RK900 clarified. "I simply wonder if there is information about him that you are keeping from me."

A weird smile brightened Connor's face. "I have no interest in keeping secrets from you," he said. "We're brothers. If I have the answers to your questions, then I will give them to you without hesitation."

RK900 inclined his head and extended his hand for interfacing. He dared not ask his question aloud, not when half of the police force was made up of Sentinels -- not when Gavin himself might be capable of eavesdropping on him from across the building. Connor's skin retracted as he touched his fingers to RK900's. Immediately, Connor knew what RK900 wanted to know, but his response was puzzled and slow. Eventually, Connor confessed that -- while he had suspected the detective was a Sentinel once or twice -- Gavin had ultimately been something beyond the scope of his mission. 

_Sentinel or not, he had only been relevant to me when he was in my way_ , Connor said with a sheepish edge. 

Nevertheless, Connor took the time to reflect on his previous observations, which revealed many of the same behaviors of which RK900 had already made note. Gavin had always been suspiciously capable for a Neutral without a partner, but his behavior -- the recklessness, the sour disposition, the unwillingness to work with others -- had prevented a perfectly clean record. Regardless, the department had seemed content to let Gavin work as he had until RK900 had been on offer. There had been, after all, no other officers available to work with RK900. 

_May I ask why it matters to you?_ Connor said. _I'm curious, if only because you have been partnered with Detective Reed for nearly six months now._

 _It doesn't matter to me_ , RK900 insisted. _Merely that, Sentinels should all be registered if they're working on the public force. It is for the safety of everyone. What if he zones?_

 _Hardly something worth worrying about,_ Connor countered. _You are the most powerful Guide that Cyberlife has ever made. If he is a Sentinel and he does zone, you will be there to help._

This assurance eased some of the anxiety RK900 had not realized he'd had regarding Gavin's status, and Connor practically glowed in response. 

RK900 still spent some extra time with Connor to go over other observations he'd had about his partner, and they came to the conclusion that there had to be at least an eighty percent chance that Gavin was a Sentinel. The majority of this percentage was influenced by Gavin's response to RK900's Guide subroutine, which was still quite different from that of a Neutral, but it was still tempered by the chance that Gavin Reed was simply an extraordinary Neutral. Connor disliked this hypothesis as a rule, but agreed not to discount it.

In the end, RK900 returned to his desk more comfortable with the results he had achieved with his observations, secure with Connor's promise not to alert the department to their findings.

"You were out there a while," Gavin commented when RK900 sat across from him. He was watching Connor walk across the bullpen out of the corner of his eye. "Everything alright?"

"Perfectly," RK900 said. "Shall we get to work?"

**

RK900 had procured a copy of Gavin's medical records. He told himself it was so that he could provide the information to medical providers in cases of emergency, but he was so blatantly searching through them for signs that Gavin had ever zoned that he barely believed his own lies. It was no longer the case that he was searching for proof that Gavin was a Sentinel; of that, he was almost entirely certain. It was merely that he and Gavin had been partners for eight months, and not once had RK900 been aware of Gavin zoning. He'd begun to wonder if he had missed it.

Humans weren't perfect, and the detective's life was hardly without its stressors. What if Gavin had needed a Guide and RK900 hadn't realized?

He found a relative dearth of information. Most of the records indicated that Gavin took remarkably good care of himself through exercise and diet. Tina Chen was Gavin's emergency contact, which was no surprise, but the secondary contact was a brother named Eli, which was a surprise as Gavin had never mentioned having family at all. Other than a strong history of migraines since he was fifteen and work related injuries like broken bones or gunshot wounds, there was nothing at all for RK900 to worry about.

Disappointment welled up inside him as he assigned the medical file as a subfolder to his main file on Gavin.

Perhaps Gavin had been telling the truth about one thing after all.

Perhaps, even as a Sentinel, Gavin Reed did not need a Guide.

**

RK900 started to think about what kind of Guide would be best for Gavin, if he did get one. 

It was obvious that Gavin did very well to take care of himself, but the toll of that self-care led him to being abrasive and testy in other ways. And his absolute denial of being a Sentinel at all -- well, that meant only the most observant of people would realize why he behaved as he did. The headaches, of course, continued to persist despite RK900's occasional intervention. As an unbonded Sentinel, Gavin must be suffering in other ways that RK900 wasn't able to see, and he wished he could--

He cut that thought off abruptly. Gavin barely tolerated him as an android, let alone a Guide. It was better not to contemplate taking care of Gavin himself.

Nevertheless, he began to compile traits in a list that would best suit Gavin's would-be future Guide.

**

Gavin tended to work late into the night, squinting through the light from his terminal screen even when its glow was reduced to its minimum.

"You're going to get another headache like that," RK900 warned him. 

A grunt was all he got in return.

RK900 sighed, stood, and came around Gavin's desk. Gavin went stiff when RK900 laid a hand on the back of his neck. "You haven't moved off this page in the last half hour. You're tired. Take a break," he said. 

"I can keep going," Gavin insisted. "Just cause I can't go on as long as an android doesn't mean I'm _tired_." 

Turning off the terminal screen, RK900 said, "Tell me that you don't feel better already."

Gavin was mulish. "I'll take a break," he agreed at last, pushing away from his desk in a rush. "But that doesn't mean you were right."

With a wistful look, RK900 watched him head to the break room before returning to his own terminal. 

_Stern_ , RK900 decided. Gavin's Guide would have to be firm with him to keep him from going beyond his limits. They would have to know exactly how far Gavin could go before he zoned. Gavin could handle a lot, but even powerful Sentinels had limits. As well as Gavin cared for himself in all other respects, RK900 saw the strain too easily for it to be anything other than a lack of awareness.

**

Gavin had little in the way of friends of family. There was Officer Chen, of course, but aside from them taking a break together now and then, they were rarely able to spend time together. She was just about as crude as he was and rarely offended. She liked Gavin a lot and worried about him if he didn't appear to be feeling well, but as far as RK900 could tell, Officer Chen didn't know that Gavin was a Sentinel. He steered away her concerns just as swiftly as he did RK900's, but at least for RK900 that was some silent acknowledgement that the android openly suspected the truth. 

The brother that RK900 had found in Gavin's medical file didn't call or write. He never showed up at the precinct, if he even lived close enough for that to be possible. RK900 had observed the families of several officers in the department show up for the purpose of celebrating birthdays and anniversaries or the birth of a child. RK900 knew Gavin's birthday from his medical records, but as the day approached, he waited for some sign of an upcoming celebration. 

Around noon, Officer Chen swung by to give Gavin a hug, an exaggerated kiss to the temple, and a cupcake, but she was right back out the door a few minutes later. Gavin nibbled at the cupcake, but evidently thought it was too sweet because it was still mostly whole at the end of the work day.

Eli Reed had not turned up and had not contacted Gavin.

For himself, Gavin had not seemed to have noticed, but it irritated RK900 that a man like Gavin had to make do with such a lackluster support system -- Officer Chen notwithstanding. 

Gavin startled at how abruptly RK900 stood up, then glared. "You glitchin' or something, tin can?" 

RK900 frowned. "Shut down your terminal. We're going out."

"Uh, no? We're not?" Gavin looked a bit wild-eyed.

"It is your birthday," RK900 explained patiently. "That's cause for celebration."

Gavin glanced around like he was worried that there would be others around to overhear, but everyone was busy with their own work. The closest and most capable eavesdropper would have been Connor, but all he'd done was glance over briefly when RK900 stood before resuming his conversation with Hank.

Drumming his knuckles on the arm of his chair, Gavin leaned back and looked up at RK900 with a narrow gaze. "...Alright," he said grudgingly. "I'll play along. Where do you want to go?"

For a moment, RK900 floundered. The only meals that he'd seen Gavin eat were the carefully homemade ones that Gavin -- all plain and unseasoned and utterly uninspiring -- or the perfectly blended vitamin and protein shakes that Gavin slurped on during the long stakeouts. For all his recklessness, Gavin did not venture far when it came to foods. Perhaps he couldn't, without a Guide.

Very rapidly, he tried to find a place that catered, however minutely, to the needs of the Sentinel community. 

"Ice cream?" he ventured cautiously. 

Gavin's brows went up. He spun his chair around, body fully open to RK900 now. "Ice cream," he echoed. "Can you even eat it?"

RK900 didn't know of any limitations in his body that would prevent it, but frankly, he hadn't consumed anything other than thirium since he was first released by Cyberlife. If Connor's exploration was any indication however, it should be fine. 

He tilted his head toward the door and smiled lightly. "Why don't we find out together?"

Gavin grinned. "Yeah, alright," he agreed. "I guess seeing you puke your guts out would be a pretty sweet birthday present."

RK900 lucked out and did not end up vomiting anything, thankfully, though that might have been because the creamery had apparently ventured into making a thirium based dessert. It was thick and smooth, the normally bright blue color darkened by whatever additive they'd used. After staring for a long time at the choices available, Gavin eventually grimaced and ordered vanilla, which was safe and plain like everything else that he ate.

"You were looking at the chocolate for a long time," RK900 said lightly. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer it?"

Shrugging, Gavin admitted, "I haven't had it since I was a kid. Pretty sure it hasn't changed."

"If it's been so long since you've had it, all the more reason to get it, if it's what you want," RK900 said. "If you don't like it, I will eat it."

The server offered to put them in separate cups as well, perhaps picking up on the fact that Gavin might be a sensitive customer. Gavin -- reluctantly -- agreed, but despite his grousing, he seemed a bit excited to make the attempt. When they sat, Gavin pulled the cup of chocolate ice cream toward him first, but hesitated before he actually managed to spoon any into his mouth.

"Relax," RK900 said, careful not to look directly at Gavin as he did so. "If you zone, I'm here."

Gavin said nothing for a while, stirring the slowly melting ice cream with his spoon before scooping some up. He knocked his knees against RK900's under the table. "M'not gonna zone over ice cream," he mumbled. He shoved a small amount into his mouth, then looked victoriously up at RK900. "That'd be stupid."

RK900 smiled as he ate his own treat, but chose not to argue. Gavin ate both cups of ice cream without issue.

Whoever got to be Gavin's Guide in the future, RK900 decided, would have to be prepared to handhold him through broader experiences. He realized, Gavin was a man who was afraid of things. He was afraid of change, afraid of exposure, afraid of being dependent on others. He was afraid of himself, RK900 thought, and he would need someone who wasn't afraid in order to learn that being a Sentinel didn't mean zoning whenever he tried to eat something that wasn't bland. 

**

RK900 started bringing things in for Gavin to try. 

The first time had been a bit of a joke on his part: coffee, cream, no sugar. A small styrofoam cup of it on the corner of Gavin's immaculately organized desk the day after the detective's birthday. He'd imagined Gavin scoffing at it and ignoring it for the rest of the day, but instead Gavin had eyed it warily before glancing up at RK900. Then he'd taken a careful sip. 

He promptly gagged a little, but hadn't zoned. He hadn't zoned -- even when he'd apparently been so intrigued by how awful coffee tasted that he'd drank the whole cup with this wide eyed kind of wonder -- but he had smiled a little. 

And of course, he'd also been absolutely wired for the next three hours, which resolved RK900 to be a bit more careful with his choices in the future. 

They got more ice cream. One visit per week to the same ice cream parlour, with RK900 sticking to his thirium flavor and Gavin determined to try every single flavor they had.

There was the beef jerky made by an Asian food truck downtown. It was spicy, sweet, and covered in sesame seeds and a thin sticky glaze, and Gavin devoured a whole bag of it while they staked out a suspect's workplace.

He got Gavin a pair of Sentinel-grade sunglasses. They were the kind that wrapped around to protect peripheral vision too, and while Gavin only wore them outside the precinct, they remained in Gavin's car and useful when they had to be out all day during bright cloudless days.

Gavin also surrendered to a long time craving. Everyone at the department was always raving about the amazing fries that were served by a diner just around the block. Gavin dragged RK900 there for lunch and sat for a minute, staring apprehensively at the large basket of fries that was placed before him. They were crisp and a bit oily, seasoned with a mixture of salt, pepper, garlic, paprika, and finely shredded parmesan cheese. Gavin breathed deeply over them, drinking in their scent, and shivered a little.

"I got this," Gavin told himself.

And he did. Gavin ate the entire basket, groaning the whole way like he was dying over how great it all tasted. 

RK900 drew the line when he saw Gavin eyeing cigarettes at a gas station. 

"No," he said. 

"I won't zone!" Gavin protested, like that had to be the only reason RK900 would deny cigarettes to him. "And even if I did, you'd be there."

"They're addictive and bad for your health," RK900 said. 

Gavin was stubborn, even now. "Worse than the obesity that I'll get from eating ice cream with you every week?"

"It's easier to counteract obesity with an active lifestyle than it is to fight cancer," he said, knowing perfectly well that the vast majority of their work hours were spent sitting at a desk or sitting in a car. Nevertheless, RK900 guided Gavin away from the cigarettes with a firm hand, adding, "Plus, I don't want to deal with the smell."

Gavin laughed. "Yeah, the smell is pretty bad. The taste has got to be worse, I bet." 

** 

It went unspoken now that RK900 was behaving more like a Guide than he was a partner. Just as it went unsaid that Gavin was letting it happen with minimal fuss. RK900 wondered if that was a problem. 

After all Gavin did still meet Guides -- on the street or on the job -- and some were almost as observant as RK900. Now and then, some were very proud to offer up themselves, if not Guide-sensitive sons or daughters, to bond with a Sentinel. RK900 said nothing during those awkward conversations, and as always, Gavin informed them that they were mistaken. That he was just a Neutral, nothing worth getting bonded over, and if they could, please contact the DPD if they thought of any new information regarding their suspect.

It bothered RK900, so he turned the question on Gavin. "Why do you say you're a Neutral when you know you're a Sentinel?" 

Gavin shrugged from the driver's seat of the car. "It's not a big deal, is it?" 

RK900 didn't understand and said so. 

Sighing roughly, Gavin squeezed his hands around the steering wheel. "It's never mattered to anybody before," he said. His mouth twisted wryly. "I'm sure you're not the only one that's figured it out either, but you're the only one here nagging me about it. No one gives a shit about whether Gavin Reed is a Sentinel or not. Shouting it from the rooftops isn't gonna change that."

"Plus," Gavin added with a louder, more exuberant air, "if I got called out on it, then I'd have to register with the state and then there'd probably be fines for keeping it a secret or some shit. I'm sure twenty years of fines adds up to a fuck ton, and I just don't have time for that crap. And then Fowler, heh. Damn, that guy'll crawl all up my ass about it, saying some shit about wasted potential or whatever. I'd have to get rated officially too, you know, and that's like, _months_ of testing--" 

"It's only a week now," RK900 said. 

Gavin swallowed heavily. "A week, fine," he said. "And then they'd probably make me get a Guide before I was allowed back on the force. For like, the safety of the public, I guess. And no one's gonna wanna bond with a pain in the ass like me. It's fine, though. I get it. It's just easier in the long run if I keep it to myself. Like I said, it's not a big deal."

RK900 stretched his hands over his knees. "Have you thought about getting a Guide?" 

Scoffing, Gavin asked, "What would be the point? I told you, no one--"

"If you could," RK900 interrupted. "If there was a Guide that matched you, one that could handle how much of a pain in the ass you are--" Gavin huffed a laugh at that, "--one that could be perfect for you, would you even consider bonding with them?" 

Gavin drew his lips together, but seemed to be honestly considering the hypothetical he'd been given. He leaned into the curve of the driver side door, one arm braced by the window, hand fisted by his temple. He kept looking at RK900 out of the corner of his eyes, gaze flicking from him to the empty road and back again.

"Sure," Gavin said finally. "If there was a Guide here that met all those criteria... I guess it wouldn't be _so_ bad to get bonded." 

RK900 sat up straighter, looking ahead at the road in front of them. Gavin's answer was, he thought, exactly the one he'd been hoping for -- a small concession to desire or loneliness, to needing help. A quiet statement that Gavin's initial vitriol against Guides was just a cover up for everything else he tried desperately to hide.

"What if--" RK900 cut himself off. The beginning of the question had slipped out without his noticing, so used to simply stating his thoughts with Gavin that he hadn't quite thought about _what_ it was he was asking before he was already asking it. "Nevermind." 

Gavin pulled the car to the side of the road with a jerk of the wheel and threw it into park. He twisted around to look at RK900, expression tight and defensive. "Just ask the question already."

RK900 turned too. He looked at Gavin -- at the tightness in his jaw and around his eyes, at the way his body was splayed to fill up his side of the car. His thumb _tap-tap-tapped_ against the steering wheel, agitated. He looked ready to fight, and his gaze dared RK900 to speak. 

"I swear to fucking God--" Gavin snapped, furious for a reason that RK900 could not quite grasp.

The question was yanked out of RK900. He needed the answer to it more than anything. "What if your Guide is an android?" he asked. "Would you still bond with them?"

"Yes!" Gavin shouted back, snarling as he righted himself in his seat and started checking for traffic. He scrubbed at his face, gesturing helplessly, unable to make himself look RK900 in the eye. "Alright? Yes. I'd bond with--" Here, he seemed to reign in his temper, taking a breath to start again. "I'd do it," he said. "Jesus." 

At that moment, dispatch called in a potential lead for them, which Gavin acknowledged before starting to drive the car back on the road. He was cursing under his breath as he accelerated to the speed limit, but once they were on their way, Gavin fell silent, mood visibly frustrated and on edge. 

As for himself, RK900 said nothing more. He kept his eyes on the road, but all his other senses were attuned entirely to Gavin, to his well being and his actions. RK900's pump held steady at its regulation eighty beats per minute, but it felt increasingly like it was beating wildly instead. Gavin had given him something just now that he wasn't sure what to do with.

 _Hope_.

** 

Three hours later, RK900 was losing thirium. 

"Detective Reed?" 

The rate at which his thirium was depleting indicated a drop of twenty percent within an hour, which was an improvement actually, now that he was lying on the ground. His body was quite busy trying to close off what remained of his thirium, but the leak was in his shoulder, dangerously close to his pump. Some of the vessels could not be altered.

"Gavin?" 

"Shut up, idiot," Gavin hissed at him. "You've been fucking shot, in case you hadn't noticed."

It took some effort to look up at the detective. Some of his scanning capabilities had been compromised by the damage, and his vision was awash with errors. Past the sea of red, he could see Gavin, head cocked to the side like he was trying to listen for something. The effort Gavin took would have to be great; the factory they were in was loud with machinery and the street beyond that was even busier. 

RK900 could see Gavin's jaw flexing. He was grinding his teeth again when RK900 had almost gotten him to stop. Then there were his eyes. They were red and a bit wet at the corners, and their grey color had almost been swallowed up by the expansion of his pupils. Gavin's nostrils flared. There was a splattering of thirium droplets on his cheek. 

The hands that Gavin had locked over RK900's shoulder were strong enough to have the android's skin glitching under the pressure. 

RK900 covered Gavin's hands with one of his own. His other arm was not responding. "Relax," RK900 said. "Concentrate. One sense at a time. What can you smell?"

Gavin shook his head. "I-- I can't, I-- The thirium. There's so much, I--" 

"Taste," RK900 reminded him. 

Immediately, Gavin's jaw cracked open, tongue licking out past his teeth. He took in a deep, shuddering breath. "Thirium," he said again. "Oil. Gun powder." He shivered. "Nothing."

"Touch," RK900 said. 

He shifted his fingers to feel Gavin's pulse. It was slowing, leveling out from the rapid, panicked pace of before. He could see the hairs on Gavin's arms rising as the detective concentrated. All of Gavin's skin tightened with sensitivity.

Gavin's eyes were wholly dark now. His fingers flexed minutely around RK900's shoulder. "I feel you," Gavin whispered.

"What more than me?" RK900 asked. 

For a moment, Gavin didn't answer, but he twisted a little, shoulders bunching up around his neck. "There's..."

"Focus on it," RK900 said. 

He squeezed Gavin's wrists, and the man went rigid, suddenly dragging RK900 to the side just as the sound of a gunshot rang out. The floor next to them exploded with a shower of concrete chips. Gavin's cursing filled the silence that followed, and the detective pulled RK900 further yet, bracing himself over RK900's body and breathing hard.

"Gavin," he whispered. "Focus." 

"Shut up, Nines, I got this," Gavin snapped.

RK900 startled for a second, but he must have heard Gavin incorrectly. Which reminded him to stay on task. "Hearing," he said.

Gavin rolled his eyes, but shut them. A moment later, his head was cocked to the side again as he had before. A wrinkle formed between his brows. All around them, the factory machinery pounded like a deep, thrumming white noise. Gavin made a soft sound, then smiled a little. 

"Hey, Nines," he said, and there was that word again, that strange thing that RK900 couldn't quite compute yet. 

Gavin pulled his hands out from under RK900's and guided him to hold his own shoulder, oblivious to the way RK900's pump suddenly felt like it was pounding. He gripped where Gavin told him. There was fabric bunched up under RK900's fingers, soft soft cotton soaked through with sticky thirium. 

He turned his smile toward RK900 then. It was sharp-edged like a wolf's. "Don't do anything stupid for like, five seconds, alright?"

And then he slipped away. 

The wait was agonizing. A status alert in the corner of his vision stated that his thirium levels were down to eight-four percent. His scanning systems were still out of order, but he could see, at least, and hear. He had a weapon if the shooter decided to approach while Gavin was away, though pointing it would mean losing more thirium. He would have to calculate in the moment whether it would be worth it.

He tilted his head back, trying to see his surroundings. Gavin had tucked him carefully between a storage unit and a wall. There was only one entry point that would allow the shooter access to him, but the ground was smeared with thirium -- a bright blue path that would lead their assailant right to him. RK900 could see the smudge of Gavin's footsteps next to it and was a little surprised to see Gavin's boots too.

Several minutes passed without change, except for the slow downward tick of his thirium levels.

Then, a shadow stretched out across the floor. Broad shouldered. Tall. If RK900 concentrated, he could hear a high, cycling hum getting closer and closer. An android then.

Strange, RK900 thought, that this had not been something he'd considered to be a viable consequence of deviancy. His mistake had been in the assumption that androids would know better.

The android's face came into view. It was an RK800. 

RK900's abrupt laugh quickly turned into a cough. 

The RK800 raised his weapon, but he didn't shoot immediately. "Where is your Sentinel?"

A shot rang out, catching the RK800 in the wrist. He whirled to search for Gavin, switching his gun to the opposite hand as he scanned the rafters above. Apparently finding nothing, the RK800 turned back and aimed at RK900 again, but his attention was elsewhere, waiting. 

Gavin didn't let him wait long. 

Another shot, a third. All dodged. The RK800's LED cast red light across the wall.

The android moved forward, out of RK900's sights. He was forced to determine their movements by audio alone. Helplessness sat oddly in his systems.

More gunshots. He counted them, but it was impossible to determine which shots belonged to who. His count rose and rose -- fifteen, twenty, twenty-five shots, interspersed with the wet-sounding slap of hand-to-hand fighting. RK900 reminded himself that Gavin was fast, that he had _seen_ for himself just how quick and nimble that Gavin could be, but it was difficult when he also had Connor's memory of his fight with Gavin. Gavin had been quick then, too. 

RK900's thirium levels ticked down to eighty percent. "Focus," he whispered. "You can do this."

Past the wall of the storage unit, Gavin's snarl was audible, and suddenly the RK800 flew into view, slamming into the wall with such force that the concrete crumbled around him. Gavin was on him a second later, gun to the bright blue circle that marked the android's pump regulator. There was no hesitation, no pause -- Gavin pulled the trigger twice.

Gavin took a few stumbling steps backward, dropping his weapon to the side. The clip was visibly empty. The RK800 android slipped down the wall to his knees and then tipped forward onto his face. Gavin watched him fall passively, staring until he was certain that his opponent was truly down. Only then did he move to RK900's side, pressing his hands down over the android's wound once more. 

"Stay still," Gavin said. His voice was rough. "Backup should be here soon."

RK900 shuddered and then kept shaking. His pump regulator was working extra hard to keep the remaining thirium moving, but it made the cycler unbalanced. Gavin moved one hand down to cover it, to press down until RK900's shakes were compressed to a rapid shiver.

"You're--" RK900's voice cracked with static. "You're not hurt?" 

"M'fine," Gavin mumbled. His gaze had drifted down to RK900's pump regulator, which was starting to rattle and scrape along the edges of its container. "Better'n you in any case. You just... be okay, yeah?" 

"Don't zone," RK900 warned. "I told you to focus before, but you can stop now. You can relax."

Gavin nodded. "M'fine," he said again. He smiled a bit impishly. "Don't need a Guide, remember? M'not a Sentinel."

"You can't start lying again to me now." His voice had taken on an embarrassingly tinny whine this time. "I've been shot."

Gavin's smile melted away. "Yeah. You went down hard." Gavin shook his head a little, like a weak dog coming in from the rain. "I should've been able to stop that. Shoulda felt it coming."

Gavin's eyes were dilated fully, and RK900 could feel through his skin the rapid beat of Gavin's heart. With the fight over, there was no reason for those symptoms to remain. Gavin was sliding. 

And unfortunately, so was RK900. 

The alert about his thirium levels was lined in a rotating red and yellow border now. Seventy-three percent. 

Above him, Gavin flinched from something. A second later, RK900 heard the shrill scream of a siren. They didn't have much time. 

RK900 grabbed Gavin by the back of the neck. His grip was weak and slick with thirium but Gavin surrendered to it almost immediately. RK900's Guide subroutine activated sluggishly, his body reluctant to dedicate resources to it when he was so badly injured, but the jolt shivered through his fingers and into Gavin as easily as it had the first time. Within moments, Gavin was limp beneath his hand, eyes closed and breath slow and unhurried. 

His grip on RK900's wound loosened as well, and abruptly, RK900's HUD started to go fuzzy at the edges. Just in time, he heard DPD forces announcing themselves. 

He could relax. 

Everything would be fine. 

**

RK900 had to be taken to Cyberlife for repairs. He wasn't aware for the majority of it, but his chronometer had been active throughout. By the time he'd been reactivated for calibration and retesting, he was already aware of three days having passed. 

Elijah was present upon his awakening, tinkering with some code on the screen in front of him. "How are you feeling? Any problems?"

"I am ready to return to service," RK900 stated neutrally. It wasn't a lie, but it was mildly uncomfortable to feel the changes Elijah was making.

"I'm upgrading some of your Guide software," Elijah said, apparently seeing RK900's discomfort anyway. 

"I'm a Level 5 Guide," RK900 stated. Elijah knew that already. What possible upgrades could be made? 

"Yes," said Elijah, "and imagine my surprise when that was insufficient. This should make things even easier for you." He quickly typed up a few more lines of code, applied it, and swiveled around in his chair. "Can you tell me where Gavin Reed is right now?" 

"I--" RK900's body seized momentarily, then just as suddenly relaxed with a sigh. The knowledge came to him as easily as breathing might, if it were necessary. "He's at home."

He turned to look at the eastern wall. There were at least fifty blocks between Gavin's apartment and the Cyberlife Tower, but Nines could _feel_ him. It was as if all the cameras in the city were his eyes, as if every wire and cable were his ears and skin. Attached as he was to the diagnostic equipment, he could travel along the connections, from computer to cable to telephone wire to computer again, until he was in Gavin's phone, which was charging on a table. He could listen to Gavin's breathing, ragged and quick and distant. 

Elijah hummed.

RK900 pulled himself back, but couldn't shake the sudden awareness he had, even when Elijah started to disconnect him from the rest of the equipment. 

"How about now?" he asked.

RK900 considered his answer. He could still feel Gavin, though his presence was not as immediate as before. Somehow, he was certain that he could find Gavin anywhere in the country, even if he were to disappear. It was as if there were a solid chain pulling him in a particular direction and a sure knowledge that he would find Gavin at the other end. 

With Elijah, he found that he was reluctant to elaborate any more than, "I can find him."

"Very interesting," Elijah said. "Mostly because that is not a part of the programming I gave you. Deviancy really is amazing." He cupped RK900's face and peered into his eyes. "I wonder whose fault that is." 

Elijah dismissed him after that, with a sly sort of smile that felt oddly familiar, and RK900 left Cyberlife feeling like his thirium was running a thousand times as quickly as before. He was due to return to the DPD and inform them of his fitness for duty, but he ended up turning to the east instead, footsteps leading him thoughtlessly toward Gavin's apartment. 

He was three blocks shy of arriving when he saw Gavin standing on the street corner, head tilted slightly backward and gaze unfocused. He was dressed in the same clothes from three days ago, shirt torn across the bottom. His bare feet were still smudged with a dull blue stain from the thirium. His arms had begun to show massive bruising. The crowds around Gavin were giving him a wide berth, with the exception of a couple security officers, who were approaching cautiously.

RK900 crossed the street at a sharpened pace, grasping Gavin by both elbows before the officers could get within reach of him. Immediately, Gavin sucked in a breath, gaze dropping down and brightening with awareness. Though his eyes were still a bit feverish, there was a focus in them that had been missing before. 

A crooked, pleased smile curved across his face. "Nines. You're alive," he breathed, tucking his fingers into the crook of the android's arms. "You look good."

"Sir," called one of the officers from a fair bit of distance. "Is this your Sentinel?"

For a moment, RK900 was reminded of the android three days ago, who had asked about Gavin in a similar manner. The assumption being made had seemed... not preposterous, but beyond comprehension. Gavin was not his to claim. Gavin was powerful and stubborn, and caustic and sweet by turns. If a Sentinel like Gavin were ever to get a Guide, it would be of his own choosing.

Yet, he answered, "yes," and felt none of the guilt or shame that came with a lie. "I'm taking him home," he said. 

"Nines," Gavin said, tugging insistently on RK900's collar and pressed close so they were chest to chest. 

He seemed oblivious to the people around them, until one of the officers got a step too close -- still more than a yard away. Then he trembled and snarled, twisting around just enough for them to see a baleful glare and the curl of his lip. Nines grabbed Gavin by the nape, giving him a low-level jolt -- then a higher one when Gavin barely registered it. Gradually, Gavin subsided, allowing himself to be tucked in against Nines's neck and hefted into Nines's arms, not quite loose-limbed but compliant and obliging.

Gavin murmured his name again, voice muffled against the android's throat. 

"Yes, that's right. I've got you," Nines said. He ignored the unsettled expressions of the security officers. "Let's take you home."

With Gavin's apartment only a few blocks away, it would take more effort and time than it was worth to hail down a cab, even if doing so would limit the number of people Gavin snapped at. In the end, it mattered little. Nines was strong enough to fight Sentinels; he could surely carry one too. His chronometer told him it had taken them fifteen minutes to get back to Gavin's apartment, but aside from the weight and feel of Gavin against him, Nines could recall none of it. 

**

As soon as they were within the safety of the apartment, Gavin drew away as if Nines were a live wire, but he didn't go far and didn't let Nines out of his sight. He was jittery, visibly nervous -- looking a lot like a junky coming down off a bad trip -- and waved his hand at the room at large as if presenting it for inspection. 

Nines didn't have to pretend he was interested. It was Gavin's home so of course he was interested, but Gavin looked every inch as if he had spent the last three days waiting for his Guide to be safe. Now here Nines was, and he couldn't abide his Sentinel looking so miserable, dirty, and tired. 

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said. 

"You don't have to stay," Gavin murmured. "I can handle it."

Yet even when Nines thought about leaving, the chain that had hooked itself in him turned red hot with hurt. He didn't want to leave, and if Gavin were willing to be honest, he'd admit the same. There was a truth sitting on his tongue; it had been waiting to be spoken from the moment he woke up in the Cyberlife Tower and felt Gavin's presence like an extension of himself. It was a truth he had wanted for even longer than that -- a feeling that had been building slowly inside him from the moment they'd met. 

"I am your Guide," Nines said, taking a few bold steps forward, away from the door. Gavin looked up at him with wide, gray eyes. "I have no intention of leaving."

Gavin's face scrunched up for a moment, and he looked down, nodding to the floor. He hooked a finger in one of Nines's belt loops. "Okay," he said. "Just, don't be a fucking sap about it."

"If you insist," Nines said, not believing a word. 

Gavin nudged his feet against the shine of Nines's boots. "I wanna shower," he said, sounding like he was speaking through a pout. "I stink."

It took little effort for Nines to get the shower started, rolling up his sleeves as he tested the water, and with a little encouragement, Gavin undressed, face turning red as he did so. Gavin brushed against Nines as he headed into the shower, pushing aside the curtain and halfway in before he looked up at Nines. 

"You gonna join me?" he asked. 

At that request, Nines, who had been planning on cleaning up the apartment some and making Gavin something to eat, abruptly reordered his priorities. "You want me to?" 

Gavin sank back into the shower stall, leaning into the spray. His hair stuck to his skin immediately, rivulets of water forming rivers down the length of his body. He pushed his wet hair away from his face and wiped his face down. "Yeah," he said. "Get naked. I wanna see my Guide."

The shower curtain stayed swept to the side as Nines undressed. Gavin's eyes were locked on his hands, following the way they moved from button to button, and he didn't seem to care if water was being spilled out onto the floor. Nines grew warm under Gavin's gaze, self-conscious of his form in a way that he had never been before. He knew that he shared the same face with Connor, identical in almost every way until you got past the skin, and he wanted to make sure that, when Gavin looked at him, he saw only Nines, his Guide.

His clothes dropped to the floor in a pile, and Gavin shifted back a bit more so that there was room for Nines to join him under the spray. Nines closed the curtain behind him, and suddenly they were in a warm, private cavern of their own making. Nines took his time, lathering his hands with soap and running them over Gavin's chest while Gavin scrubbed shampoo through his hair. Gavin wasn't the only one with super-human senses between the two of them. Nines might be restricted to the data he could measure, but even that was quite a lot. He took his fill of Gavin's form, acknowledging that this quiet moment might be all he could manage sanely before the bond pulling taut between them grew too strong.

The pulse of the blood under his skin quickened slowly as Nines memorized the exact lines and angles that made up Gavin's body. He noted the fine differences in skin tone from cheek to collarbone to belly to thigh, all touched in varying quantities by the sun. He recorded every old scar and every new one. The bruising from Gavin's fight against the RK800 looked savage -- purple and blue spread across his forearms and shins and low along his side -- but overall, Nines had anticipated much worse. Gavin would be aching for a while, but he was going to be just fine.

Gavin didn't flinch when Nines touched the bruising. Instead, he leaned into it, daring him to give a firmer touch. He pressed close to Nines, body flush from the heat of the water. His eyes were heavily lidded, looking sleepy, lashes clumped together with water. Despite the bruising marring the edge of one cheekbone, Gavin looked... quite beautiful. Nines felt lucky to be holding him.

He craned his chin up. A little smile fought to reveal itself, and Gavin hid it with a lick of his lips. "Hey," he said. His hands tentatively fit themselves over the cut of Nines's hips. "You gonna stare at me all day or you gonna kiss me?"

Kissing had never been something that Nines had considered, but now that he was aware of it as an option, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Then a fraction later, Nines couldn't stop _doing_ it, couldn't stop himself from pulling Gavin in, seizing his mouth, and kissing him over and over. He opened his mouth so that Gavin could lick in. He fisted his hand in Gavin's hair. His other hand guided Gavin's to touch along his side, to stroke along the vast expanse of his back.

Gavin whimpered, but surrendered to each unspoken instruction. He lost himself in the assault upon his senses, hips hitching forward mindlessly. Gavin was aroused, Nines realized with a lurch, and he was in a prime position to do something about it. 

Nines pressed Gavin against the wall, looming in so that the Sentinel's sight was filled with him. He kissed him -- deeply -- so that when he grasped Gavin between his legs, Nines could feel the way he moaned against his tongue. Gavin was a hot curve in his palm, quickly hardening completely under his touch. It wasn't smooth, even with the water, but Gavin didn't seem to care. He clutched at Nines's shoulders, fingers tightening until Nines's skin started to recede under the pressure.

"Focus on me," Nines whispered against Gavin's lax mouth, following it with kisses that made Gavin whine. "Do you feel me?"

Gavin hissed, hips jerking forward. "As if I can focus on anything else," he said. Wrapping his arms around Nines's neck, he clung tightly, smearing his mouth long the Guide's jaw. "Fuck, you gonna make me do it?"

"Yeah," Nines said, feeling a hot, hedonistic wave rolling through his systems. "I want you to come on me."

Just the thought of wearing some mark of Gavin's made Nines feel like he was short circuiting. It would be something more than just the rock solid certainty of their connection. It was something that everyone could see -- something that would show them that Gavin had picked him, when he had been so determined to have no one at all. 

Gavin sucked in wet, greedy gasps as Nines pumped a fist over his cock, the tip of which was smearing slick precome over his wrist in thin threads. His knees were trembling, but his fingers dug in like claws, fingernails catching in the grooves of Nines's paneling. 

"I'm gonna," he said, face turning red as he fought for breath. "Fuck I'm gonna... All over you, Nines, I--" 

And with that, he came, come spilling out over Nines's arm and across his hip, startlingly hot for a second before the shower washed it away. Gavin's expression turned blissed out and lazy, his body languidly leaning against Nines like the thought of standing on his own was impossible, and suddenly Nines was hungry for more.

He turned off the shower, and they meandered from shower to bedroom to bed with a halfhearted attempt at drying off along the way. They were still damp when they climbed over each other on the bed, sheets soaking up everything that the towels missed. Gavin's hair left a giant wet spot that stuck to his back when he scooted up to the pillows, but neither of them noticed. Neither of them cared.

Nines got his mouth around a nipple, and then a finger, then finally, Gavin's cock. He pinned Gavin to the sheets with the kind of strength he might use to subdue a feral Sentinel in the streets and delighted in the way the bond between them sang almost as loudly as Gavin's voice. The file he had on Gavin was growing thick with information. Images of Gavin trying to smother his moans. Sound bites of when Gavin failed. Nines recorded the taste of him, the smell of him, every data point that could be formed about him -- all of it saved and held tightly in the safety of his mind. He was going to look back on that information and know it was undeniable proof that he'd had Gavin, that this first time of the many times he wanted had occurred and Gavin had _loved_ it. 

Gavin knocked a fist against the headboard and shoved the other into Nines's hair. His face was pink and his eyes were dark. His lower lip was bitten raw. His hips trembled under Nines's grip. His cock looked obscene covered in the fluid from Nines's mouth. 

"Wait, wait--" Gavin tried to stop Nines from taking him in again. His breath was coming quick suddenly. "I think I'm zoning...Shit..." Tears were welling up in his eyes. "Nines," he whined. 

Nines gently slid his hands under Gavin's body, seeking out the dip of his spine, shocking him with a low prolonged pulse. He could feel the electric wave of it like a distant echo along the bond, but Gavin reacted like he was having his dick sucked again, his whole body growing taut and his lungs drawing in a long shuddering breath. Gavin cursed when Nines released him, staring down at him with wide, clear eyes.

Dragging his tongue along Gavin's length, Nines made sure he had his Sentinel's attention. He laid kisses from the tip of his cock, up up up until he was kissing Gavin's mouth, feeling him rut instinctively against the hollow of his hips. "Stop worrying," he said. "If you zone, I'll be here to bring you back."

"Fuck," Gavin breathed. "Fuck yeah, Jesus, you gotta fuck me now. You're gonna have to keep me grounded the whole way, but if you don't get in me in the next five minutes, I swear I'll go feral."

It didn't feel like an entirely idle threat, even if Nines chuckled as he helped Gavin turn onto his belly. Preparing Gavin was an almost meditative action in the middle of all this urgency. Gavin breathed through it, eyes closed and face pressed tightly to the sheets, even as his body canted upward for Nines's fingers. He was open and eager, but he'd been right too. While he had the slicked up fingers of one hand buried in the tight clutch of Gavin's hole, he had also had to hold Gavin in place with the other, spreading all five of his fingers over his nape, Guiding him back to the moment, and leashing him in place with greater and greater insistence.

 _Be with me_ , Nines thought. _Be_ _here _ _with me_. 

Gavin clawed at the bed, cursing reduced to a muffled whine. The same word spilled past his lips over and over. Please, he begged. Please please please.

Nines licked an electric stripe along Gavin's spine, rousing him completely, and gave Gavin exactly what he wanted, pushing his cock inside in a single slow push and covering Gavin's body with his own. Gavin arched into the breach, stretching out under Nines's weight, and groaned, hands scratching at the sheets until Nines covered those too and pinned them in place. With a squirm, Gavin tried to find some level of freedom, but Nines denied him at every turn, becoming a wall that Gavin could throw himself against in futility. Eventually, Gavin settled into a kind of equilibrium, twisting his face around for a kiss that Nines granted and letting himself glide along that edge of nearly zoning. 

It was strange to feel it along the bond. The hyper aware, hypersensitivity was distant for him, but Nines could tell it would get easier with practice. As he devoted an increased attentiveness to the bond, he could feel the way Gavin was responding to everything he did, and if this were anyone other than Gavin, Nines would have thought to go slowly -- to continue the glacial application of pleasure until his partner realized there was no alternative. But Gavin's desire was literally infectious, bleeding across the bond with a red hot urgency and driving Nines into movement before he could think of it himself. 

Gavin's body clutched greedily around him, and his face was caught in a rapturous expression, gaze blissed out and lip caught between his teeth. He squeezed the fingers that Nines had laced between his and pushed back into every thrust like he was laying down a challenge before his Guide, daring Nines to use him and fill him up. 

It was nothing that deviance or his long programming sessions with Elijah had prepared him for. The two of them shook the bed ruthlessly, rutting into and against one another. Nines pounded into Gavin, fitting his teeth over the Sentinel's nape and holding him down until he fucking mewled as he came. Even then, when his programming said that he should slow down and be cautious of the oversensitivity that was common in males, Gavin demanded more through the bond, his voice whispering right along side the urging that Nines felt from him.

"Come on," Gavin said, pulling Nines's hand toward his mouth and lipping wetly over his knuckles. His nostrils flared as he smelled the remnants of the lube Nines had used. "I wanna feel it. Don't you wanna return the favor, Guide? Make me smell like you? Come on, come on, fill me up, Nines." 

The hooks that the bond had sunk inside Nines tightened irrevocably, and he shoved into Gavin to the hilt with a hiss, holding Gavin to him as he came. Gavin moaned pitifully underneath him, shoulders quaking as he fought for breath. Nines kissed those shoulders. He kissed Gavin's neck and his jaw as he withdrew, and Gavin rolled underneath him, arms sliding over Nines so that he could draw him into a languid kiss. 

Gavin stayed quiet for a long while. The bond between them settled into something steady and still. Gavin kissed him like he needed the distraction, like he just... needed a moment, and they laid there together, side by side, in a bed that was still more than a little damp from the shower water. There seemed like there was so much left unsaid in the moment. Nines wanted to ask if this was enough, if having him as a Guide would satisfy Gavin. Maybe from this point on, Gavin wouldn't be so reckless, so agitated, so closed off. Nines couldn't know, and he wanted to demand answers now that he had Gavin fitting himself snugly against his side. It would be perfect; Gavin was too worn out to run.

"I can feel you thinkin'," Gavin murmured, voice slurring a little. "Been feelin' you think for like, days I guess. S'worse up close." He heaved a huge, tired sigh and slid an arm over Nines's waist, snuggling close. "Take a nap or something." 

"Do you think that--" 

Gavin pressed his face into Nines's chest. "Oh, for fuck's sake--"

Nines pressed forward. "Do you think that we'll be... good?" 

"I am too fucked out for this," Gavin said fervently. He pushed up onto his knees and sat astride Nine's waist, glaring down at Nines with steely gray eyes. "Let me set you straight on something, alright. I don't know anything. I'm stupid and I don't think about things before I do them, but with this-- Fuck. I guess I've been thinking about it for a while. And I don't know if we'll be good for years or if we won't make it past next week. All I know is that, if anyone was gonna handle being my Guide, it'd have to be you. I won't stand for anyone else, you got that?"

Nines smiled up at Gavin. "Yes," he said. "I get that." 

Gavin leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of Nines's shoulders. "You sure? Cause I remember you being stupid about me bonding recently. I don't want my Guide thinking that I don't want him around." 

"I understand, Gavin." Nines lifted his chin. "As I said before, I have no intention of leaving."

"Good." Gavin leaned down the rest of the way to kiss Nines, pulling back just a little before he could make contact. "Cause if you leave me, I swear to God, I'll go feral and rip your fucking face off."

Nines laughed into the kiss, sliding his fingers into Gavin's hair and pulling. "You can try, but I don't think I'll test that theory for a while."

**Author's Note:**

> I realized at the end of the fic that thirium is supposed to be invisible to the naked eye after a few hours' exposure to open air, but it didn't suit the imagery thematically, so fuck it. I hope everyone enjoyed!
> 
> Happy birthday, Katie! Love you~


End file.
